


wrap my mind in blankets

by shieldivarius



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/F, Fluff, Light Angst, Post-Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie), Soulmate AU, hair cutting, kind of anyway
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-17
Updated: 2015-07-17
Packaged: 2018-04-09 18:12:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4359188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shieldivarius/pseuds/shieldivarius
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Melinda comes to visit Natasha to quiet the thoughts in her head.</p>
            </blockquote>





	wrap my mind in blankets

The moulded glass spiral staircase leading to the second floor of the loft had been placed to catch and reflect the blazing sunset coming in the western windows, and the column in the centre had to have crystal inlays with the way it threw rainbows across the polished concrete floor. The piece dazzled the eye and demanded attention and damn if it didn’t stand out in the otherwise simple apartment. A piece of opulence that had been thrust amongst the near-utilitarian leather sofa set and low glass-and-steel trestle serving as a coffee table in the centre.

A showstopper piece, one that diverted your attention as soon as you walked in the door, just long enough for the resident within to put a gun to your temple.

Or not, if she’d somehow expected you and decided to feign disinterest, staring out the window with her back to the door instead.

The latch gave a soft click when Melinda pulled the door shut behind her, cutting off the whirring sounds of the air conditioning in the hallway beyond. This wing of the new Avengers facility held residences only, with Natasha’s well away from most of the others. No doubt a design choice made both for her own preferences and compounded by status awarded for her position.

“Second in command of the Avengers comes with nice digs,” she commented.

Natasha’s back remained to her. Her hair hung too long to be natural growth after how short it had been in footage from the Sokovia incident. Extensions, probably, and ones that looked like they’d need to be redone again, if the play of the light wasn’t tricking her eyes. A good portion of the right side of her hair looked uneven, frizzy and jagged. 

“Pay’s shit though. Even the KGB was better.” Natasha turned enough to flash an upward turn of the corner of her lips before turning back to the window.

An invitation to enter, and one Melinda took. She kept her shoes on, left her bag on the couch as she passed it. Got a good look at the damaged section of Natasha’s hair as she joined her at the window, with its sweeping view of the training grounds below. Burnt. Definitely burnt, though when and how hadn’t been enough to break into mainstream media.

“You’re never going to escape work this way.”

“Not as long as I’m here, no.”

Natasha didn’t make any move to touch her and so Melinda held back, too. She managed to lessen the effort of restraint by shoving her hand in her pocket but, even then, it would be so easy to slide the edge of the unzipped jacket against Natasha’s arm.

New faces, ones she almost knew the call signs for but didn’t know the civilian names of, were scattered across the field below, tossing a football back and forth and clearly on downtime. 

“How’d you manage to get the time away?” Natasha asked after a minute of their standing there, not talking, and Melinda wondering if Natasha was fighting the urge to grab for her with as much force as she was.

“I needed it, and I took it.”

Natasha smiled. Not a huge smile, but warm and genuine. It opened her up enough that she turned to give Melinda the full force. 

“So you came to see me, with your precious time off?” Coy, almost, and playful in a way the smile wasn’t. Too long apart, but that wasn’t why Natasha was deflecting. Dig, or not?

“First stop,” Melinda said. She could dig later. For now, selfish as it might be, she needed her own roaring thoughts quieted. 

They’d started to, the moment she’d stepped into the apartment. Like a blanket had been tossed over them and muffled the sounds, and as soon as she came close enough to stand beside Natasha, to really get a feel of the coiled, controlled energy that sat quietly radiating from her, it had quieted further. Like three blankets thrown on top, and a forceful hand pushing the thoughts three rooms down.

Natasha’s smile had faded some. It became a studious expression, reading whatever Melinda let show on her face. (Exhaustion, mostly, she was sure.) Whatever Natasha saw didn’t bring on anything reactionary, but she slid her hand out and it joined Melinda’s in the tiny pocket.

It would’ve been comical if the contact didn’t feel like sparks shooting across her skin. And why, _why in hell_ , did they keep trying to make their lives work apart from one another, like going six months or a year without being together could be healthy at all.

Natasha gazed at her from beneath her eyelashes, the way she did when she wouldn’t voice desire. 

That was enough.

Their hands still in her pocket, Natasha with two fingers hooked around Melinda’s index, Melinda leaned forward and kissed her. Her other hand come up to touch Natasha’s cheek, one finger trailing behind her ear where a tiny tattoo of a misshapen, hand-drawn heart was hidden in the scarlet of her hairline. 

They broke apart enough to press foreheads together. Natasha’s back rested against the window, and no doubt anyone down on that field could have looked up and known something was going on far above.

“I missed you,” Melinda said. _‘It never works with anyone else,’_ she wanted to add, but didn’t. It went without saying. They’d been trying for years, separately, but always gravitated back to each other. Always needed to, nature pushing its course forward regardless of what their lives might demand.

Natasha only sighed, but she pulled Melinda forward so they were pressed together in more places than they weren’t. 

They stood like that for a while, if standing was the word, running hands over each other without talking. Relearning how it felt to stand with Natasha in her arms, and with her hands in those curls, the quiet strength of the legs on either side of her own.

“Can I fix this?” Melinda asked after a time, her hand finding and playing with the burnt edge of Natasha’s hair again.

“Please,” Natasha said, her voice hardly a breath against Melinda’s ear.

The brand new kitchen gleamed like it had never been used-it probably hadn’t-and Melinda set Natasha up on one of the counter stools. She found scissors in the second drawer she tried.

“Just go for it,” Natasha said when she made a motion to find the bathroom and a comb.

“I should-”

“Curly. It’s styled, just cut it. One group at a time. I was getting around to doing it myself.”

Possibly, Melinda had volunteered for more than she realized. 

She reached for the frizzy ends anyway, though, pulling out a curl and snipping off the split ends at the bottom, then letting it fall back. She did this again, and again, with Natasha’s direction once it came to shaping the rest of the hair around the shorter section.

By the end, an hour or so later, tiny red curl bits scattered the counter and the floor around them. Natasha had started listing as though sleepy, only kept upright by Melinda reminding her again and again that she needed to sit straight if the cut was going to work right.

“Go check the mirror,” Melinda prompted.

“I trust you,” Natasha said. She didn’t open her eyes.

Melinda sighed, fondness making her chest tight, and rolled her eyes. “Check anyway.”

Her hair brushing along her shoulders with the movement, Natasha slid from the stool. She pressed a kiss to Melinda’s temple on her way out of the kitchen. 

Melinda followed at a distance. Up the beautiful glass staircase and to the open master suite above. She didn’t follow Natasha into the ensuite, instead crossing to the window. 

The bedroom looked onto the forested space on the south side of the facility, and a green rooftop terrace that extended some three stories below and took up the bulk of the length of the main building.

“How does it look?” she called, grimacing a little inside and not looking back when Natasha was quiet for more than five minutes. 

“Beautiful.”

She turned to find Natasha no more than three feet away, and staring at her.

The rushing thoughts in her head stopped.

**Author's Note:**

> This vaguely feels like it will act as a sequel to a fic I've been working on but haven't posted yet. ~~I enormously oversimplified dry curly hair cuts too.~~
> 
> http://shieldivarius.tumblr.com


End file.
